


The Little Things

by diemarysues



Series: A King and her Burglar [14]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, FemBagginshield Week 2013, Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of sentence fics, drabbles, ficlets, and what-have-yous centred around fem!Bagginshield. Will be added to periodically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elemental

**Author's Note:**

> ha I told people I was taking a break from femslash stupid brain

Fire

 

> It was Bilbo’s backbone more than anything, her unbreaking will to prove herself and her beliefs right; that was why Thorin loved her.

 

Earth

 

> In the same way that rocks and earth complemented each other, maybe that’s how it was with Dwarves and Hobbits.

 

Air

 

> There was no time for wonder as she sat upon the Eagle’s back – there was only the wind on her face and the worry in her heart.

 

Water

 

> Surely no one would miss them as they took a while to explore the waterfall near camp.

 

Electricity

 

> Thunder was not oft heard in the mountain, but when it was, Fennin was to be found between them, safely under cover of the sheets.

 

Light

 

> “Your sword, Bilbo – leave me and continue on, I will take care of them!”

 

Poison

 

> ‘It is most discourteous,’ Bilbo thought as her vision swam, ‘to attack a Hobbit via her food.’

 

Darkness

 

> It was after countless days in the dungeon of one she hated that Thorin heard her name being hissed through the bars – and felt the stirrings of hope in her chest.

 

Bubbles

 

> Their bodies slid together slickly, skin slippery with soap, and both doing all in their power to draw the other ever closer.

 

Ghost

 

> “Sometimes I think I hear you – in Fennin’s laugh, especially – but you’re not here and I need to remember that.”

 

Blood

 

> Kissing ‘boo-boo’s was a ridiculous practice Bilbo had set with Fennin, but Thorin couldn’t complain when Bilbo settled into her bed after the latest Orc raid.

 

Hearts

 

> “Thorin, you are not serving hearts to the Mirkwood delegation.”

 

Sand

 

> Thorin slid off her pony and fell heavily, coughing as the dust was kicked into her face by the wind.

 

Time

 

> It was one of Bilbo’s favourite hobbies to watch her wife and their son attempt to tackle arithmetic together.

 

Space

 

> Oh for – surely they didn’t need _that_ big a bed!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Challenge taken from here: [[x](http://heckyeahtumblrchallenges.tumblr.com/post/43294476502/15-day-elemental-challenge-drawing-or-writing)]
> 
> Edit: There is a vote currently on this chapter - choose two of the fifteen options and I will write a full fic with the one with most votes. Voting ends when I say it does, so do it quickly ;)
> 
> Edit 2: Voting has ended! Poison has won.


	2. Quarterly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 25 three-sentence fics.

Awkward

> “Are you three never going to speak to each other again? I understand that what happened in the rose terrace is uncomfortable for everyone but –”
> 
>  
> 
> “Dear one… could we perhaps discuss this after supper?”

 

Believe

> It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be dead. _She couldn’t be dead_.

 

Caring

> It was almost impossible to think that she could even feel like this for another being. She’d lived through years and years of her life thinking that she’d be alone but for family and friends – she’d lived through it all thinking that that would be enough. Funny that all that was completely untrue, all after stepping past a round green door.

 

Compromise

> “I don’t know that I should…”
> 
>  
> 
> “We’ll look after Fennin in the evenings as well, to give you and Aunt some alone time – just please don’t tell Mother about all of this!”
> 
>  
> 
> “Well… alright.”

 

Cut

> “And what will you choose for your portion of the treasure, burglar mine? I would clothe you in citrines and little else.”
> 
>  
> 
> Bilbo allowed Thorin to press close; she hid her tears in dark, braided hair.

 

Dismiss

> After sending away the last of those that ‘urgently’ required her attention, Thorin was quite annoyed when she heard the door to her study open. This annoyance significantly dropped with happy cries of “‘ _Amad_! ‘ _Amad_!” – and disappeared completely when arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind.
> 
>  
> 
> “Come to dinner, Thorin.”

 

Engage

> Apparently things worked _quite_ differently for Dwarves than it did for Hobbits.
> 
>  
> 
> “What do you mean we cannot share a bed? We’re betrothed!”

 

Forward

> “Bilbo.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Y-yes?”
> 
>  
> 
> “Have me.”

 

Found

> The relief upon throwing open the door and recognising the crumpled figure on the thin mattress was knee-buckling. Nothing could have stopped Thorin from crossing the room and taking her wife in her arms.
> 
>  
> 
> But Bilbo would not answer her calls.

 

Heavy

> Bilbo had discovered a fondness of praising Thorin’s beauty. It certainly helped that the King, unlike Bilbo, didn’t seem to mind being plied with compliments.
> 
>  
> 
> Not when pregnant, at least.

 

Hero

> If there was one thing Fennin knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was that his ‘ _Amad_ and his Mama were the bravest people he knew. This was reinforced by tales and stories from his Aunt and his cousins and his various adoptive uncles. More than that, his own mothers loved to extol each other’s courage especially when recounting their first adventure together.

 

Hush

> When the would-be kidnappers entered their chambers, it had been difficult to silence Fennin. Their son had known little trouble since he’d been born and had honestly been clueless as to why he needed to be quiet. And even though Bilbo had tried her best to shield him from the sight of another Dwarf being slain, it would be some time before the nightmares stopped.

 

Impulse

> It was a simple enough purchase, made and presented with good intentions. The gift itself was simple; a sheer scarf that shimmered in the sunlight.
> 
>  
> 
> Too bad everything ended in tears.

 

Journey

> Thorin felt a little bad for pushing her retinue as she was doing. Day after day she demanded they wake before the sun rose and they only stopped to make camp well after night had fallen. But it would cumulatively allow them to reach Erebor a month in advance – so be it.

 

Lively

> It took her a long while to return to normal after the ‘incident’. Fennin could not understand this. It broke her heart that she could not explain to him.

 

Lower

> “Just – just a little bit more. Yes, there, yes!”
> 
>  
> 
> “You know, I’d appreciate it you remembered that I have more uses than being your back scratcher.”

 

Morals

> Growing up with one ‘uncle’ who was the head of the guards and the other who was a professional thief and spymaster would be confusing to anyone. Adding Fíli and Kíli to the mix was bordering on dangerous. Bilbo and Thorin made sure that they were the primary influences in Fennin’s life… just in case.

 

Open

> When it came to seduction, Bilbo believed in simplicity. All she needed to do was to leave the top button of her blouse undone. Thorin would usually crack within the hour.

 

Plead

> “Please listen. Please come back. Please forgive me.”

 

Prowl

> Imprisoned as she was, Thorin was still a sight to behold as she paced behind the bars of her cell. Her mind worked furiously to consider all that her burglar and lover had told her.
> 
>  
> 
> “This is what you must do,” she said.

 

Remorseful

> “It’s not your fault, and it’s not mine.”
> 
>  
> 
> “I know. I am still here for you.”

 

Scowl

> “ _Inudoy_ , keep at it and your face will stick that way.”
> 
>  
> 
> Bilbo made a strangled half-snort. “Do all mothers say that?”

 

Shield

> “I am not protesting your presence at the skirmish!” The bare anger in Thorin’s voice made Bilbo quiet. “What I object to is the fact that you consider yourself less of my wife and more my shield!”

 

Tactile

> After the ‘incident’, Thorin kept to Bilbo’s side at all times, more often than not touching Bilbo in some way. It was supposed to be cloying and exasperating, but Bilbo couldn’t feel that way. She wanted to be close to Thorin as well.

 

Voice

> Bilbo could grow drunk on Thorin’s insistent kisses. She was constantly amazed by Thorin’s skilled hands. But one thing that was sure to take her completely apart were Thorin’s words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts taken from Table B [here](http://100-prompts.livejournal.com/692.html).
> 
> Voting again - this time you only get once choice, and then the one that wins will have a full fic written for it. Voting ends at the next update I guess.
> 
> Edit: Perhaps I shouldn't be a smartarse and keep you to one choice. Anyway, Shield's been chosen.


	3. Hundred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10 drabbles. (i.e. 100 words each)

> Evidence

 

Bilbo looked up at her with wide, wide eyes. “Does it still hurt?”

 

Thorin could only manage a “No”, her voice gone breathy and low. Bilbo’s touch on the latticework of scars on her side sent an indescribable feeling shooting through Thorin’s body. Although phantom pains _did_ occasionally plague the King, now she could only feel the warmth of Bilbo’s tiny hands.

 

Then there was only exquisitely aching pleasure as her wife bent down and carefully mapped the knotted skin with her lips and tongue.

 

Thorin let her head fall back onto the pillows, and let Bilbo take her apart.

 

 

> I'm here

 

“Listen to me. I know it’s difficult. But try. Keep breathing. The healers are on their way as we speak but you have to be strong in the meantime. Be strong for me. Be strong for our son.”

 

“…can’t…”

 

“You can. You _can_. Please, you can. I’m begging you, hold on. You – you can’t leave me alone, you just can’t. You’re not that cruel. You have _so much_ to live for, and I know I’m being selfish but I can’t give a damn. I’m here. Remember that I am here, right now, and I’m telling you: stay. Stay with me.”

 

 

> Funeral

 

In Dwarvish culture, the loss of a child was even more of a sombre happening than amongst other races. They had, after all, the lowest birth-rate of all the mortal peoples of Arda – and if the child in question was that of the King and her Consort, the loss was felt even more.

 

The public mourning of their unnamed (and unknown) child lasted a month. It took longer than this for Bilbo to leave her self-imposed seclusion.

 

When she found her wife out in the sunlight, well… That was the first and only time anyone saw tears on Thorin’s cheeks.

 

 

> Puppy love

 

“Where’s Fennin?”

 

Bilbo made a face. “Where do you think?”

 

Thorin’s mouth formed an ‘ah’ of understanding. She went over to the fireplace and pulled her unresisting wife into her arms. “It’s a passing fancy. Children are prone to them.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

 

“No. But you will have to accept it, just as I have.”

 

“I hate it when you’re the sensible one.”

 

She shifted guiltily. “…well…”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I may’ve made a few threats. Orcrist may have been involved.”

 

Bilbo stared at her wife for a moment, before bursting into delighted laughter.

 

 

> Gloves

 

When it was suggested to Bilbo – and not unkindly – that she wear gloves after her (latest) kidnapping, she didn’t take to it well. Why should she hide her lost finger, she asked. It was not by her own doing that it had been severed. The suggestion that it was a weakness to have now nine fingers was insulting.

 

She’d put up her chin, declaring that going gloveless would be only show everyone how strong she could be after all that had happened.

 

It was the first time that a Hobbit demanded a Dwarf’s beard in recompense.

 

She got it, too.

 

 

> Blackboard

 

“I’m surprised our son is taking to his lessons so well.”

 

Bilbo cast a sidelong glance at Thorin. “He is our son.”

 

“Oh, please. You notoriously skipped out on your lessons to climb over hedges and catch frogs; I have it on good authority.” She grinned at the outrage on Bilbo’s face as she snapped her book closed.

 

“Dís has told me all about your adventures of luring your siblings into mischief, thank you. There’s no need to take the high ground.”

 

Thorin only continued grinning as she tugged Bilbo close. “As I said, I am surprised Fennin is behaving.”

 

 

> Muse

 

Bilbo hadn’t meant to do it.

 

It couldn’t be her fault, could it, that her footfalls were so silent? She didn’t do it intentionally, even if everyone insisted otherwise; that she needed a bell around her neck and other such silly things. She really _was_ an excellent burglar, et cetera.

 

But Thorin _should_ really have heard the door opening. Perhaps Bilbo should have cleared her throat or made another sound, but she was struck breathless by the dance of Thorin’s fingers across strings and the crooning sound of her low voice.

 

Of course – of _course_ – Thorin then caught her staring.

 

 

> Magic

 

“I may be a Wizard,” Gandalf said severely, “but I cannot work miracles. What you ask is impossible.”

 

“But –”

 

“There is a clear reason why we do not dabble in Necromancy. Not only is it forbidden, it is _foolish_. It is evil. You might as well go looking for the ghost of Sauron, no doubt you would receive a more favourable answer!” His demeanour softened as he sighed, looking very, very old. “I know you are grieving your love. But I cannot bring her back.”

 

Her gaze dropped, as did any hope she’d had.

 

“You must let her go.”

 

 

> Clean

 

“What are you smiling at?”

 

Bilbo bit the inside of her lip. “You.”

 

Raised eyebrows. “That much was apparent. I meant why.”

 

She shrugged, water rippling around her bare shoulders. “I’m happy. I’m soaking in a hot bath with my wife, who has our newborn in her arms. I don’t see why _you’re_ not smiling.”

 

At this, Thorin did, her eyes twinkling – and both their smiles only grew when Fennin gurgled and cooed happily.

 

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?”

 

Bilbo pouted. “Never.”

 

Thorin leaned close, Fennin cradled securely. “I am now,” she said, and kissed Bilbo.

 

 

> Secret

 

The night was quiet and cool from the balcony, and the moon was half-full, casting enough light to illuminate the person standing at the edge. Thorin took a long breath to steel herself before walking forward as soundlessly as she could. She put her hand on the person’s shoulder, noting that she didn’t startle.

 

“We can’t do this,” the King said. She knew she sounded sad. “I tried. It’s supposed to be a secret, but she knows.”

 

No reply.

 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how, but –”

 

“Well, well, well,” Bilbo’s voice sounded from behind them. “What’s going on here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts taken from the first table A [here](http://100-prompts.livejournal.com/692.html).
> 
> Okay! Votes for a proper-sized fic is back to two. /has learned her lesson


End file.
